


time has changed (nothing at all)

by AmyDancepantsPeralta



Series: without you, I'm nothing (one shot tumblr prompts) [1]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, High School Sweetheart AU, One-Shot, Tumblr Prompts, short but sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 08:15:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19225219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmyDancepantsPeralta/pseuds/AmyDancepantsPeralta
Summary: It had been so long since she’d seen his face, and heard his laugh.  She hadn’t realised how desperate she had been for both, until Gina had texted her.  Her heart had been tangled up in her throat all afternoon, and watching him now made it no better.





	time has changed (nothing at all)

**Author's Note:**

> A one-short based on the prompt: _we were high school sweethearts but then you moved away, but now you’re back._
> 
> You can find the list here

**time has changed (nothing at all)**

****

 

Jake sat nervously in the booth at Shaw’s Bar, feet tapping to the beat of a song that he doesn’t remember knowing. 

It had been close to ten years since he’d been back here, in Brooklyn. _Having moved - by no choice of his own, thank you very much Roger_ \- to Dallas when he was 17, the opportunities to return had been scarce. To be fair, after a while, it just became easier to stay away.

The face of his watch glowed as he activated the screen, checking the clock for the eighth time since sitting down. _She was late_. He drums his fingers against the bottle of beer in his hand, less interested in taking a drink than he is in distracting his mind from all of the thoughts racing inside. 

A cold breeze sweeps through the establishment as the bar’s front door swoops open, outside noise evading the inside, and a flash of red hair catches his eye. Gina, the girl he’s known since childhood, makes her way through the crowd before stopping in front of him. 

“Long time no see, boo.”

He stands, wrapping her up in a hug, both smiling as the familiarity of it all immediately comes back to them. Their mothers were still the oldest of friends, and through them they had been able to keep tabs on each other’s lives over the years. It had made the most sense, when his flight had landed earlier this morning, to contact her and organise a catch up.

They had only just begun talking when Rosa appeared, a warm smile taking over her face, the kind reserved for only her oldest of friends. She slides into the booth quickly, scooting until she is next to Gina and wordlessly nods for another drink from the waitress. Boyle arrives shortly after, gripping Jake into an uncomfortably long hug before grabbing a chair from the opposite table, sitting on the edge of the booth. The conversation flows easily, each of them excited to finally be in front of each other instead of the text and email format that had ruled their lives for the last ten years. 

His eyes keep flickering towards the door, heart skipping a little every time he sees someone walk through. Dropping a little more each time it isn’t her.

“She knows.” Gina leans into him, pulling his attention away from the bar. “She got the same text the rest of these guys did. She knows. I just don’t know if she’s going to turn up.”

Jake nods, plastering (what he hoped looked like) a relaxed smile on his face and turns back to his friends. It really had been too long, and there was much to discuss.

 

 

Amy watches from her vantage point on the other side of the bar, watching the four of them laugh together, and once again tries to draw up the courage to go over there. 

It had been so long since she’d seen his face, and heard his laugh. She hadn’t realised how desperate she had been for both, until Gina had texted her. Her heart had been tangled up in her throat all afternoon, and watching him now made it no better.

This was Jake Peralta, after all. Her high school sweetheart, and the ~~boy~~ man she once would have called the love of her life. The reason behind countless nights, crying herself to sleep, wishing above all else that he hadn’t relocated to Dallas: that he was still there holding her as she slept, and that he _hadn’t_ instigated their break up, telling her that she deserved far better than someone like him. 

It was Puppy Love, her parents told her over and over, tired of watching the light fade from her as the days wore on. _Sixteen year olds don’t know what love truly is - and one day you’ll look back on this and understand that._ She told them they were wrong, and that she would never heal. And then, eventually, she did. 

Amy had taught herself to keep the memories of him locked up, stashed away in a safe place that not even she could access without _really_ trying, safer to tuck it all away than to watch them burn. She had dated, had opened up her heart to others, and for ten long years she had played an incredibly convincing role of Amy Santiago Is Fine. But people who were completely fine, and totally over their exes, didn’t hover on the other side of the bar with their feet feeling like blocks of concrete. 

He laughs, loud and happy, and she feels it hit her chest. She used to know that laugh like the back of her hand - knew the expanding of his chest, the tightening of his belly, the way he would laugh with his entire body. She had loved to be near him when he did, finding his joy so contagious that it would only be seconds before she was joining him, laughing without even caring that she didn’t know the joke. He was utterly addictive, and so very in love with her, and together they had felt as though they could take on anything.

She tries to forget the feeling of her stomach bottoming out as he turned up at her door, tears in his eyes as he stuttered out that his family was moving. His father had been cheating on his mother Karen for longer than either of them cared to acknowledge, but Roger had been transferred to a base in Dallas, and Karen was determined that the change of scenery would be the solution to everything (a quick Facebook search a few years ago told Amy that this had definitely not been the case).

The back of her mind still holds on to the way Jake began to grow distant in the weeks leading up to the move. How he faced her with the saddest eyes she had ever seen and tried to convince her that her life would be so much better once they were apart, how he was holding her back from greatness, and how amazing he knew she could be - how amazing she would be. How the tears had streamed down his face as he turned to walk away, shoulders stiffening as she called out his name, hands clenching and never turning back.

Out of all the books she had read, none of them had ever taught her that heartbreak was an actual, physical pain.

His eyes have been searching the bar all afternoon and somehow, through the crowd, they finally latched onto hers. She notes the way they seem to light up, new-found crinkles around the edges as he smiles over at her, and she can’t help but smile back. Quickly, she orders a drink and heads over to the booth.

He looks older now, which makes sense given the years that have passed, but it was still unexpected. His curls are hidden, contained in a shorter haircut, and there is a light stubble peppering his jaw. But his smile is the same, warm and seemingly only for her, and after all the welcome hugs and happy hellos are over, she slides into the booth next to him and he mumbles “It’s really great to see you, Ames,” and it’s as though he never left. It had been so long since she’d been called Ames, and she hadn’t realised how much she had missed it.

 

 

 _The years have been kind to her_ , Jake thought as he watched Amy interact with their friends. She was beautiful - she always had been, but there was more to it now. She carried herself with the confidence of a woman who knew what she wanted; forever humble in her appearance and blushing whenever she caught him staring at her (which, to be honest, had been pretty often, but he honestly couldn’t help himself).

Her leg brushed against his as the conversation grew rowdier, leaning forward to quickly defend her version of events as the five of them began sharing stories from their high school days. It was ridiculous how his skin had shivered at the contact, no matter how brief, and Jake knew that he needed to do whatever it took to make this afternoon last forever. 

He hadn’t ever wanted to leave her. Had regretted every single word he’d said as he watched her heart break in front of him, and in the seconds that followed had been desperate to turn back and wrap her into his arms, apologise for everything and promise never to leave her. He didn’t want to go to Dallas, he didn’t want to leave her. He would have lived outside the school in a cardboard box if it had meant he could have stayed with her. But he was young, and he thought he knew better. And he had regretted it ever since. 

Their looks linger now, the booth falling quiet as the other three read the mood and head over to the opposite side of the bar to play dartboard. Words had been stunted at the beginning, sticking to polite queries that they both knew the answer to from secret checks of the other’s social media over the years. Slowly but surely, the awkwardness began to fade, and Jake remembered all the reasons why nobody else he had dated in the years leading up to now had ever been able to hold a candle to her. 

The touch of her leg again, though still fleeting, felt much more deliberate, and the tension crackled between them. It had nothing to do with the empty glasses on the table, and everything to do with _them_ \- what they would have been, what they should have been, and what they could be once again. 

He would wait, until much later, to tell her the things that he’d only dared to hope that she’d be interested to know. How this trip wasn’t a quick stopover, and that he was moving here to attend the academy and finally realise his dream of joining the NYPD. 

How he’d played their reunion over and over in his mind, and that the reality (even if it hadn’t involved a fifteen-piece orchestra playing while she ran into his open arms) was far greater than anything that he could have imagined, because it was _real_ , she was _here_ , and that seeing her face after all this time had been the highlight of his year. 

How he hoped, more than he could find the words to convey, that she would be willing to go to dinner with him sometime so that they could finally be alone after being apart for _so long_. 

 

 

He walks her home later that night, hands swinging down by his side as he works to keep the tone of conversation light and breezy. She doesn’t tell him, and he doesn’t notice, that she’d been directing him in circles for the last half hour, taking wide berths around the same block because she simply wasn’t ready for the night to be over. 

That even though he had left, and they had each done their best to erase each other from their minds, it had been crazy for her to think that he’d ever really gone. 

Finally, they are at her front door, and he leans in to leave a goodnight kiss on her cheek. She shifts, moving her mouth towards his, and their lips melt into the kiss they had both been craving for the last ten years. The kiss that solidified that after all was said and done, they were still the only one in each other’s heart, and that no matter what it took, there was no turning back from here. 

Jake pulls away first, smile beaming through him to the very tips of his feet, and when she invites him inside he doesn’t hesitate. Nothing even needed to happen tonight - he would wait forever, if she asked. He just wasn’t ready to walk away from her again. He wasn’t willing to walk away, ever again.

After ten long years, he was finally back where he belonged. And it felt so good to be home.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Comments/kudos are always welcome and totally fuel my fire. 🔥
> 
> Title from Ten Days, by Missy Higgins. A song I’d absolutely recommend for the wistful heart.


End file.
